


Flowerecho

by Ysael



Category: Fleurécho, Flowerecho, Flowerfell-Fandom, UA Flowerfell, UA-Underfell, Underfell-fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Language of Flowers, Pacifist Frisk (Undertale), flower curse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-26 06:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysael/pseuds/Ysael
Summary: Sometimes, the echos don't want to die and carve themselves somewhere else.Translation from French to English of my UA very inspired by "Flowerfell" and the fanfiction "Overgrowth" written by SociopathicArchangel. I ask, and get, the permission to make my story from siviosanei, and it's solely inspired by their work, I don't try to write in the Flowerfell universe.





	1. Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Fleurécho (Flowerecho)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587084) by [Ysael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysael/pseuds/Ysael). 

> Hello everyone, this is the first time I try to translate one of my work, so I hope there will not be too much faults in it. I hope you'll enjoy it.

** Chapter 1  
Echo **

The first time a flower appears on her body, she screams weakly in the silence before a sound of explosion swish on the room. Heklev looked at the blue petals nest in the crook of her left wrist, between the lines of her veins. She remains silent. She doesn't really feel anything except a hollow discomfort which doesn't seem to erase itself. Like the faraway echo of a pain now forgotten.

The young women close her eyes. Take a large breath. Pictures turned again and again in her head. Pictures where fire, screams, and tears were melted together. The screams and the tears were from the one she had called "mom". Toriel.

She shivers, bringing back the wrist against her chest, pressing her fingers on the flower. On the desk, near her bed, Flowey was still sleeping. His stem calmly rises at every breath before sinking gently, and his leaf shudders lightly. Seems that nor her awakening nor the noise wake him up.

She presses more and freezes immediately. A shiver runs her back as a warning sign, as if she must be careful with the blue petals which became quiet. She feels a little spike pulsing under the corollas when she tries to lift them, a spike which turns into an agonizing pain when she tries to take it away despite the anxiety crawling on her guts.

Her fingers immediately release the frail stem and grab her chest. Her heart was beating violently, tearing her apart. The tears run on her cheeks and blur her vision, which darkens in a blackish veil. A strangled scream breaks her lips.

\- Heklev! Heklev!

Flowey's voice came to her between a deafening buzz. She cries, almost choking herself on the tears running on her cheeks when the buttercup looked at her, worrying, incapable to come to her. She takes some time to calm herself and reopen her eyes. Her senses still blur her view, and her body was still trembling. She didn't understand. Well, more accurately, she didn't want to understand. Her lips twist under the taste of bile which flood her palate.

\- Heklev?

She turns her head, her eyes meeting the red iris of the buttercup where she reads his worries. She wants to reassure him, saying that it was nothing, but her words died in her throat before she can elaborate them. How can she pretend when she can't even stop her cries? She shut her eyes again, laying on the sheets, her dark short hairs spreading on the pillow under her head. Slowly, she puts her arms on her eyelids. She must get over it. She must-

\- Why did you have an echo on your wrist?

She thrills and transfers her attention on Flowey, her violet iris resting on the red orbs in front of her.

\- An… echo?

The buttercup shyly points the blue petals for any answer. Again, she winces.

\- I don't know… It was here when I woke up…

She doesn't note the strange expression which lays a fraction of a second on his face. She doesn't feel his hesitation. It's when he clears his throat she knows that something wasn't right. Everything was wrong since she woke up.

\- Flowey?

\- You… died Heklev. And you came back to your last save point.

Her last save point. The strange yellow flower had already explained how things works here, how the Underground's magic act on the monsters and herself. LOVE, EXP, reset, save points. But he never talks about the possibility of death. Neither did he talk about the echo.

\- Did this already happen before? The Reset? The… flowers?

Flowey didn't respond during some long seconds. He was afraid to get the young woman angry. She was in her right to be; he didn't warn her about the fact that, in this world, death was not something that you let come at you with the course of the years… But Heklev was just waiting, her head softly titled with a shy and patient smile on her lips. She looks so much like Chara…

\- There had been resets before you. A lot. But the echo… No, it's the first time that I see that.

The young women didn't really know how to think about it. The uneasiness comes back, underlining her helplessness. She can't do anything against it, she bitterly experienced it firsthand when she had tried to snatch the flower from her wrist. Cutting short her thoughts, she gets up and takes the pot of Flowey in her arms.

She must leave.

For the second time, she goes to Toriel and expresses her desire to leave the Ruins. For the second time, she is driven in a combat where she refuses to fight. And, for the second time, a single orb of fire is enough to kill her in an agonizing pain.

The second flower opens itself in a deafening scream of agony, next to the first one who remains quiet. Heklev feels the discomfort spread on her skin, but nothing that she can't endure without flickers. Once again her arms wind up around her only ally's pot and press it against her trembling chest. Fear was playing with her stomach. But she goes on, leading herself to the living room and the one she calls "mom", pushed by an outside will which was whispering, again and again, the same thing on her ears

_"Go on. Don't lose hope. Stay determined."_

She tries a lot of scenarios. Flighting. Bargaining. Diplomacy. Pleas. Everything ended up the same way. By her death. The blue flowers climb on her left arm and start to appear on her ribs, on her temples, on her neck, near her left eye. At each petal was associated a scream, a howl, tears, and a frail silence. It didn't take long before Heklev notices the echo germinate on Toriel too. The Queen doesn't seem to see them, to smell them, even if the pistils let go a lingering scent of forget-me-not. She doesn't even seem to be constrained by the blue petals on her white fur. Flowey didn't see them too.

She loses the count for a long time when she tries to keep her ground much longer during her fight against the ancient Queen. It was the only way to force her to accept her open arms. So many times, Toriel's flames kill her. Finally, while the petals almost cover her left eye, she sees her mother give up, fall on her knees and take her frail body against her. Heklev snuggles on her chest, letting her echos touch the ones on the neck of her mom. These rustle of cries hidden by the crackles of faraway flames, before shutting up and fading, crumbling into ash dust. Hers stay on her pale skin. Toriel, once she became calm again, didn't ask why these flowers had invaded her body. Maybe because she didn't dare to, fearing to seem intrusive. Maybe also because she isn't in the mood for, not when they part.

It doesn't really matter. The old queen smiles one last time before moving away from the door and returning upstairs without looking back. Heklev was now alone in front of the massive door that she opened with difficulties. Her body was responding less easily, constrained by the faint and dull pain diffused by the echos. She rushes in the opening and continues on her way until the edge of a snowy forest. The path before her was empty, the wind icy. The young woman clutches her waist and progresses, Flowey always in her arms. Her steps squealed the snow which chokes the soil, soil where pines were rushing towards the red blood sky like blackened spears. A golden shine sparkles curiously a few meters away, drawing their attention to it. A save point.

The human's fingers lightly brush against the yellow star, producing a strange sound from it. A sound that sounds like some muffled laugh bursts, at least for Heklev. Her lips curve on a smile and let a sigh pass. At least, now, she will never wake up again on the ruin's bedroom.


	2. Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She comes to Snowdin but couldn't continue her journey. The only way is to try, again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter online. I hope you will enjoy it, and don't hesitate to let me some reviews if you can.

\- Thank you.

Her smile encounters the surprised expression from Sans. Calmly, she continues her journey, flattening the snow on a path she had taken over twenty times. It’s been a while now that her left eye was now invisible under the echos scenting forget-me-not, and her right arms was succumbing to the inevitable progress of the blue petals. She had surprised the skeleton’s gaze on the pale flowers; she had seen him jump when it resumed her words weakly to send it back in the icy air. Even she was surprised when the echos did this in Toriel’s home. The flowers only repeat her words before becoming quiet again, for an unknown amount of time. Heklev never knows what word or what sentence it will repeat, nor to whom. As if it also becomes more and more frail at each reset.

After that, Sans tried multiple times to make the flowers talk, with more or less success. After a little while, it keeps repeating the same words. The ones she just says. Again. Flowey stopped asking her why she continues to thank him when they both know very well that the skeleton will betray them later. The flowers had stayed quiet a certain amount of time after this discovery.

\- Why ?

The young woman stops and turns toward the monster, surprised. It is the first time that he comes to her after her thanks. He stops right in front of her and keeps going.

\- Why did you thank me ?

She shrugs, suppressing the pain that flews into her body. Her smile remains on her lips. Soft.

\- Because you had informed me… And it’s important to be polite, kind…

\- Even if all the monsters that live here want your death? I mean, Papyrus, me… We’re not really angels kid. We are monsters.

His tone is strangely bitter, dull. Heklev doesn’t move. Keeps the same smile.

\- It doesn’t matter…

He laughs, his sharp teeth screeching in a forced smile.

\- You really think you can change us like that? Forget it kiddo. We are lost cases.

She continues to smile softly, silently. Her right eye observes the echos scattered on the skeleton’s fingers. She sees it shivering, trembling. She knows that these petals don’t talk, at least not until she touches them. Sans and Papyrus were both affected by this phenomenon, but, like Toriel, neither seems to be aware of it.

\- Maybe… But I will continue to try. Again and again.

Her arms tighten around Flowey. In a few seconds, Papyrus will come. She already hears his boots crush the snow in a chopped and martial rhythm. Tac, tac, tac. Silence. And then…

\- SANS, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THIS HUMAN!

The concerned jumps, sinking his hands in the worn pockets of his black jacket. His left eye, the one where some cracks started, freezes under the menacing posture of his brother.

\- Hey boss…

Heklev doesn’t move. What’s the point, she knows from experience that she will not make three steps before being killed by an attack from the Royal Guard’s Second. Flowey snuggles a little more against her. He also remembers too vividly this reinitialisations. A new shiver crosses the numb members of the human. The fight will start…

She wakes up violently in the room she rents in Snowdin. A new echo opens, letting go a strange noise. The one of her soul breaking apart. Apparently, she didn’t even scream this time. A trembling smile crosses her lips. Maybe it is better that way. She has the feeling that Papyrus takes less and less pleasure in her killing. The fights were more shorts. Her death far more quick. Almost immediate. The skeleton did no more take the time to torture her or making her scream in agony, unlike their first encounters. Her fingers tenses on the sheets. The yelling and the howls of the echos born after these fights still resonates with as much power and horror in her ears.

_“Stay determined. ”_

The strange voice vibrates in her skull, letting her slightly raise her head. The voice’s tone looks like hers, and it has a certain familiarity that she can’t explain…

The young woman closes her eye and brings back her knees to her chest. If only she has just that odd. If only the echo was her first preoccupation. She didn’t respond at Toriel when she asks her her reason to go. The ancient queen alone deduces that she wants to go to rejoin her family… Except it was not the case…

\- Heklev ?

Flowey’s voice takes her out of her thoughts. She raises her head and smiles at him, her right eye fixed on the red iris of the buttercup.

\- Hey Flow’…

She sees her friend’s stem shivers. Observes the features of his face freezing in an expression of surprise and choc. She raises an eyebrow. 

\- Flowey ?

Her tone seems to wake up the flower who shakes his head. Heklev can’t help but looks at the light caress the yellow petals in white gold highlights. Her lips curves imperceptibly. Buttercups were some beautiful flowers…

\- Nothing… It’s nothing…

The sadness which enamel his words screams the contrary, but the young woman didn’t push forward. She stands up, pushes back the cover sheets and comes and grazes the flower’s hurt leaf from the tip of her fingers. She feels them trembling.

\- Did you want us to have some rest?

They never really take the time to stop since the beginning of their journey. Their nights were reinitialisations, their meal some energy quickly spends into fights far too difficult. She feels exhausted. And the echos didn’t help at all. She presses her right hand on her left wrist. The flowers draw in her to grow and live. Not surprising that she gets tired so quickly.

The little “yes” of Flowey take her back, and she closes her eye when he lays his forehead against hers, rubbing it softly. It didn’t take long before she feels some drops on her cheeks. 

\- We… We can do it Heklev… And you will get out of here.

She just nods and brushes lightly the yellow corollas in a soft smile. Her fingers come collect the salty tears which roll on it.

\- Yeah, we will…

She presses a little more the flower against her with all the tenderness that her painful body lets her express. She lets him snuggle against her neck, where the echos didn’t take place. She lets him sob in silence, looking at the snow falling outside. She didn’t know if she makes a good choice by letting escape this promise. She knows her time is running out. The incessant pain, the tiredness of her body… Everything stated the fatality of a countdown which already takes her left eye. She fears her deaths. Hates her reinitialisations. Shivers under every new petal.

Her vision blurs under the ball compressing her vocal chords. Heklev violently bites her lip. Lowers her head. She must not give up. Not here, not now. Later, yes, later, when this hellish travel will stop. Not before…

Many reinitialisations later, she finally succeeds in destabilizing Papyrus by a simple answer. A sentence that prevents her from breaking apart like glass. Her arms enclose the skeleton’s waist. Her lips move.

_" Even the worst person can change if you give her a chance. "_

The echos on her left temple crease when he hit his hand. Heklev freezes under the knock. Her working eye rolls on her eye-socket. The next second, her body falls heavily towards the ground, beneath the screams of Flowey.


End file.
